War
by seerstella
Summary: Song!fic. When Harry was hit by a stronger curse than Obliviate, Healer Malfoy came to help, trying his best to help the raven to get his memory back. Although the blonde had to sacrifice something important. DMHP Slash.


**WAR  
>SEER M. ANNO<strong>

_Do you remember standing on a broken field?  
>White crippled wings beating the sky <em>

"Harry," a woman said softly beside him. "This is your new Healer, Healer Malfoy."

Malfoy. Harry vaguely remembered that he had heard the name before, but he didn't sure where, and when. "Hello," he said softly. The blonde man beside the woman—_Hermione?_—nodded his greeting.

"Hello, Potter," he said. "Have we ever met before?"

Harry stared at him, deeply. Then he shook his head. He hung his head and closed his eyes, oblivious of the new Healer's depressed sigh.

* * *

><p>It was a warm, bright night. The moonlight brightened Harry Potter's sleeping face. The opened window made the raven's face looked much paler. He looked as pale as the new Healer, who was walking quietly inside the small room. Draco Malfoy stared down at the sleeping man, trying to hold his tears.<p>

"Draco?" he heard someone called. He knew who it was.

"Hello, Granger," he greeted flatly, without even looking at her. The woman stood next to him, near the small bed. "He seems fine."

"Of course he's fine," she said. "At least physically."

"He remembers you, doesn't he?" Draco let his hand wonder on Harry's face, just like he used to do in the past. He sighed.

"He remembers me and Ron, but vaguely. He keeps frowning at us, silently asking who we are. He didn't remember anything before the war. I'm not even sure he remembers the war." She stopped and stared at him. "You're okay, aren't you, Draco?"

"I have been better," Draco answered. "I don't think he can remember about me again. About _us_. Me and him."

"Oh, Draco," she patted his shoulder in sympathy. "I don't think so. Sooner or later, he will see us and smile like he used to do. He will kiss you below the moonlight, just like he always dreamed."

"Hermione," Draco suddenly called after a long silence. She stared at him and saw his small, sad smile. "I don't know about you, but if he only remembers his friends and forgets me, it's quite enough already."

* * *

><p><em>The harbingers of war with their nature revealed<br>And our chances flowing by_

Harry didn't know why his feelings keep tugging him every time he saw his new Healer. He admitted to himself that Healer Malfoy was handsome, but nothing more than that. He didn't remember anything related to the blonde.

The last thing Harry remembered was a flash of light. He didn't know why he saw that light, or when, or where, or who had made it. And after that, he was here. He was met by several people, claiming themselves as his friends, but he couldn't remember where, when, and how he met them.

"Good morning, Harry," he heard someone said. He looked back and saw the new Healer walked inside his room. Harry only nodded cautiously at him, curious of whom the blonde was.

"Can we take a walk?" the Healer asked. "I'm feeling a bit bored today."

Harry stared at him. He longed for a walk. All people who were surrounding him never let him to go outside. They had told him the outside world wasn't safe. He was supposed to be safe and sound, sleeping in this white, boring room of St. Mungo's Hospital (the name the brown haired woman had told him).

And then this new Healer came, bluntly asked him out. Harry didn't realize that his brow had shaped a deep frown. Would it be okay for him if he walked out the room? This blonde Healer was not like everyone else he remembered.

"Come on, Harry, it's okay. I won't hurt you."

Harry gulped, and then he nodded uncertainly.

* * *

><p>Draco had requested to his supervisor, Healer Jacobs, so she could open St. Mungo's secret garden. He also told her not to disturb them so they had their private time. Asking a request to use the secret garden was often declined, and Draco was lucky that he could get what he wanted. He always got what he wanted. Well, everything but Harry.<p>

The walk of them was unsurprisingly silent. Draco looked at anywhere but Harry, who was also too busy with his mind. The garden was set to look like Hogwarts' backyard. Draco hoped that it would trigger some memory from Harry's subconscious mind.

Suddenly the raven stopped. Draco stopped too, of course. Harry sat on the artificial grass, sighing softly. Draco followed.

"It's beautiful," he said. The raven stared at him, but nodded in agreement. "This reminds me of…" the blonde stopped to examined Harry's emotionless face. "…someone I love with all my heart."

Harry only nodded once, obviously wanted to say something. Draco sighed. He missed Harry's voice so much. Damn Voldemort, why he had to take Harry's voice? Harry had done nothing wrong to the Dark Lord, why he liked to make him miserable? Why he had to kill Harry's memories? Why he had to kill…

Draco looked at the raven when he felt a tug on his Healer uniform. "Yes, Harry?"

"Am I know you?" he mouthed the question. Draco stared at him in surprise. Based on the Healers' notes, he hadn't 'spoken' since he was awake. So this is obviously a huge progress on Harry.

Draco blinked several times, and answered, "Yes, Harry, yes. You know me so well it frightens you."

* * *

><p><em>If I can let my memory heal<br>I will remember you with me on that field_

It was already a month after Harry met Healer Malfoy. Well, the blonde certainly did his job well enough. A week after their meeting, the blonde had discharged him out from the hospital. And now they lived in a house called 12th Grimmauld Place.

At first Harry didn't like the house. It was cold, old, and the screaming portrait (along with a disrespectful house-elf) scared him out. But Healer Malfoy took care of him very well. Harry realized that he was a pure-blood, someone that the obnoxious elf named Kreacher would love very much. Harry learned much about his family and friend. He eventually told Harry that the raven was his schoolmate.

"Good morning, Harry," he called from the end of the room. Harry walked towards him. "Ready for our practice? You've done great in letters, now we're trying for words."

Harry nodded and sat in front of him. He slowly put his hand out and held the blonde's tongue gently and let the other hand touched the Healer's neck, searching for vibrations of sounds.

"Hello," the blonde said, his hand slowly touched Harry's throat, also searching for vibrations.

Harry didn't remember how to speak properly again. He knew how to mouth his words, but he didn't know how to let sounds to escape from his throat. To be precise, he didn't _remember _how.

"Hello," the blonde repeated. Harry could feel the vibration on the blonde's throat, and tried to let out the same one on his own. Harry opened his mouth, and a small, hoarse gurgling noise came out.

Healer Malfoy almost cheered. He nodded and smiled encouragingly at Harry. Harry didn't want to give up. He continued to put up the vibrations in his throat. More noises came out, and Malfoy couldn't look happier.

"…'llo."

Healer Malfoy jumped out in happiness. And they continued their practice, learning about speaking new words. Harry had never seen someone as happy as the Healer. If he had, he surely didn't remember who, and when.

After the successful day, Malfoy had read him stories, and Harry sometimes followed his words, mouthing them, or even tried to speak the word. Harry sometimes looked at him when he was reading a story to him and wished he could be as handsome as the blonde.

He knew—Malfoy had told him so—that they had known each other. But he didn't remember if he had seen someone as amazing as Malfoy, let alone known.

* * *

><p>Of course Healer Malfoy had shown him photos, took him to several places, and even lent his wand to him. Harry even didn't remember what his own wand looked like, why it was gone, and where it was now. Luckily, he still could do magic with Malfoy's wand. Harry didn't remember anything related to the photos, if Draco didn't tell him.<p>

"Harry," Malfoy called. "This is a Pensive. _My_ Pensive. It will help you to remember."

"Yes," Harry said slowly. He could say several words now, much to Malfoy's happiness.

"I didn't show it to you earlier because I didn't want you to be rushed by memories. It would make you even worse. But I think… now you're readier than before."

He walked backwards, let Harry went into his memories.

* * *

><p><em>When I thought that I fought this war alone<br>You were there by my side on the frontline_

Harry could see a blonde boy running towards him. He—who forgot how the Pensive worked—tried to stop him, but the boy kept running and _through_ his legs. He gaped.

"Harry! Harry! You did it, you lucky bastard!"

Harry looked back at the sound calling his name. He saw a raven-haired boy with big glasses. He realized—the feeling was like a bucket of cold water on his head—that it was him. It was him in the younger age.

The blonde boy, Harry realized as Healer Malfoy in the past, ran towards his younger self and hugged him, congratulating him for winning the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

Harry gaped. Other than the fact that he didn't remember what Hufflepuff was, he was shocked to see the great relationship between him and the blonde boy.

His vision changed suddenly. Now he saw his younger self, who was standing in a dark stairs, tears coming out his face. Younger Malfoy was standing beside him, patting his shoulder awkwardly.

"C'mon Harry, Harry, calm down."

"Draco, Draco," young Harry sobbed. "They killed Cedric, they are back. Draco, you have to believe me, please!"

"I do, I do."

"They don't believe me. Draco, I'm not a liar!"

"I know." And with that, the young Malfoy pulled him into an awkward hug. "I know, Harry."

Harry's vision changed again. Now he saw someone who looked much like him now—an adult Harry Potter, standing on a field. The coppery smell of blood nauseated him. Corpses were lying on the field, and the memory-Harry walked forward, wand in hand.

"Ah, Potter boy, we meet again," there was a cold sound, which made both Harry and the memory-Harry cringed.

Harry looked around to see a creepy snake-headed man with skeletal fingers. Oh, that must be Voldemort, Harry mused. The memory-Harry gasped softly, but a touch on his back calmed him. Harry looked back and saw a figure in a black robe. The figure walked forward, towards Voldemort.

"You again?" Voldemort bellowed.

The figure only nodded and said in a steady, unrecognizable voice. "You won't take anything from Harry! I won't let you!"

Before he could see who was beneath the robe, a Curse was thrown and a sudden force made him jump. His visions started to blur… and finally everything was gone.

The first thing he saw was Malfoy's worried face. The Healer Malfoy.

"What was happening?" he asked. "It was like the Pensive was pulling you out from the memories with a force. That never happened before."

Harry only shook his head, still shocked of what he had seen in the Pensive.

* * *

><p><em>When I thought that I fought without a cause<br>You gave me a reason to try_

Sometimes, Harry would be frustrated. It was not an easy thing, trying to speak. Like today.

Today was already a week after the Pensive incident. And Healer Malfoy was practicing him today. Harry could speak his own name and several difficult words now. He could pronounce simple sentences nicely, and he started to remember the names of The Weasley clan, although he doesn't know why he had to. He didn't know any of them, but Malfoy told him to do so. What was confusing from the blonde was that he didn't teach Harry to say his name.

"Hermione Granger," Healer Malfoy said.

After half an hour trying (damn it, Hermione! Why is your name is so difficult?, Harry had cursed in his mind), Harry ended up retreating to his room, snarling at the blonde as he did so.

"Harry?"

Harry curled on his bed, pretending to fall asleep. Malfoy walked into his room, slowly and carefully. When he reached Harry's bed, he didn't say anything. And Harry felt a gentle hand stroked his messy, black hair.

After a long pause, and when Harry finally leant to the gentle strokes, Malfoy began to speak.

"I don't want to pity you," the blonde said with a small sigh. "You used to hate the pitying looks and words. I won't practice you, since you look so frustrated today. And Harry, I know you are not asleep, so stop pretending that you are."

Harry eventually rolled, faced his Healer. "We were friends?" he asked hoarsely, changing the subject. Malfoy knew his old habit, and after a peek to that Pensive Harry was more than sure that Malfoy and he had shared a history together.

Malfoy nodded enthusiastically, his eyes brightened. "I know that bucket of memories can help you to remember! Well, you can say that. People don't like us being friends, but you were the one who said 'screw them, I will be damned if I lost an amazing, extremely intelligent, and handsome friend'."

"Really?" Harry managed to squeak his question.

A blush tainted Malfoy's usually pale cheeks. "Yes, but leave out that 'amazing, intelligent, and handsome'. But you did say things like that. Your friends and mine weren't happy with this situation, but finally they accepted our friendship."

"Why?"

"We weren't in a same House, Harry. Gryffindor and Slytherin were rivals. It was a novelty, our friendship. Ron and Hermione are our greatest supporter."

Harry stared at him. "They?"

"They are your best friends, Harry. You forget about them, but they remember you. You are their best friend, and they want the best for you. _I_ want the best for you." Malfoy rose, gave his hand towards Harry. "Come on, Harry. Supper's ready."

Harry blinked at him, and finally accepted his hand. He tugged at it, made Malfoy looked at him. "More practice today?" Harry asked.

Malfoy's smile couldn't be bigger than that. He patted Harry's shoulder. "Good, that's the Harry I remember."

* * *

><p><em>Turn the page I need to see something new<br>For now my innocence is torn  
>We cannot linger on this stunted view<br>Like rabid dogs of war_

Draco was staring at his parents' tombstone. Narcissa Malfoy was buried next to her husband, both of them got a really nice-looking tombstone, made of marble and their names were carved in a silver color. "Hello, Mother, Father," he greeted. A pang of pain hit him as he kneeled and put flowers on their tomb.

He rose and patted his parents' graves, but he didn't even glance at the third one.

"Draco," he heard someone called him.

"Ron," he said back, turned back to see him. The redhead man was staring nervously at him. "How's Harry with Hermione's Pensive?"

"It didn't work. It never does. He doesn't see anything from our memories. He doesn't know us. Hermione never told me, but I'm sure she is frustrated."

"I've told them that you both are his best friends."

"I think he doesn't believe it." Ron sighed. They walked out from the graveyard. "Draco, he doesn't remember anyone but you. Was your Pensive worked?"

"Yes, but he didn't see all my memory. Something pushed him out. I don't know what, but Harry already knows that he was my friend."

"_Is_," Ron corrected. "You're still his friend, even after what happened."

"But he doesn't know anybody else but me. I want him to remember all of you. I've told Hermione that if he remembers his friends and forgets about me, it's enough already."

"I know that," Ron sighed. "No, Draco. Harry loves you. He loves you like he used to be."

"He _was_," Draco pressed. "I don't think I'm able to love him again. I don't want to hurt him. I want him to be happy, surrounding by his friends and family."

Ron sighed. "He's happy enough with you. It's okay with us."

"No, it's not. He's blind as hell, and I don't want him to stay that way, even if I have to sacrifice something." Draco glanced to the graveyard behind his back, then turned back to face the redhead.

"Whatever you say, Draco Malfoy."

* * *

><p><em>If I can let my memory heal<br>I will remember you with me on that field_

Harry didn't remember how love felt like. But he always felt his heart fluttered when Healer Malfoy touched his throat every time they practiced. He always felt his pulse quickened if the blonde Healer stroked his hair every time he wanted him to wake up.

But he was more than sure that his feelings towards the blonde were more than friendship. He didn't waste any time to tell the blonde when he was sure. He had seen Malfoy's memory, and realized that maybe it would be fine.

Today was four months after Malfoy discharged him. He tugged Malfoy's shirt, making the blonde opened his eyes, and looked up at him. "Harry? What's wrong? This is already two in the morning." The blonde started to wake up.

Harry gulped, his hands shot up to stop his Healer. Malfoy stared at him, confusedly. Harry licked his lips, he was nervous. As he leaned down towards Malfoy's ear, he whispered, "Love you."

Malfoy was more than surprised at that point.

* * *

><p>Draco couldn't sleep. He always couldn't, since Harry confessed his love to him. Now, he was standing on the balcony, the rain drenched him. He looked back, to his bedroom. Harry was lying, asleep, cute and beautiful in his nakedness.<p>

He felt himself falling, in love with Harry. Like he used to be. Draco closed his eyes and massaged his head. He loved Harry very much. But flashes of Hermione's tears, Ron's frustrated stares, those damn gossips between him and Harry, made Draco want to cry.

But he didn't. He couldn't cry anymore. Now, Harry was in love with him, again, and Draco couldn't ignore that very fact. He couldn't just step away from him, because he would break a heart by doing so.

He hadn't shag Harry—no—he couldn't. Draco opened his eyes, his vision covered by his damp hair. He loved this so much, but this was not right. Draco curled his hands into tight fists, decided that he had to end this.

* * *

><p><em>With no-one wearing their real face<br>It's a whiteout of emotion  
>And I've only got my brittle bones to break my fall<em>

A year later…

"Love you," it was Harry's turn to stroke Draco's hair. Draco closed his eyes. Today was Draco's birthday—if they were still celebrate it. Harry didn't remember, though. But Draco didn't care, because today would be the time.

Today would be the time Harry remembered everything, everything but Draco. He had forbade Hermione and Ron to come over and wished him happy birthday. It would make him sadder than ever.

Before the Final Battle, Harry had told him that he wanted a kiss below the moonlight after he killed Voldemort. He didn't even remember that promise, Draco mused sadly. Draco's Pensive stopped working to him when… it happened.

Now he was more than sure. He stopped Harry's hand, and smiled weakly at him. "Evening, Harry," he greeted, kissing his lips gently. He rose and gave his hand to the raven on the bed. _Now it's the time._"Do you want to go out with me? I need some fresh air."

"Okay," Harry answered, taking his hand and changed his clothes. Draco had to restrain the urge to shag him, like he used to do, hidden behind Hogwarts' stone walls. He knew that Harry was confused of why he didn't want to shag him again. Not that he remembered their loving memories in Hogwarts, though.

Well, Harry wouldn't be confused anymore tomorrow.

"Come on," he heard Harry said. "I'm ready."

* * *

><p><em>When the love in letters fade<br>It's like moving in slow motion  
>And we're already too late if we arrive at all<em>

Harry didn't know why his Healer (now he wasn't a Healer anymore, he surprisingly resigned three months after Harry confessed his love to him) was so sullen today. His eyes were dark and his expression was sad. Harry didn't know why, and he felt that he had seen his face like this before, but didn't remember when, and where.

But now, Malfoy's face was a bit relaxed, and his eyes were a bit brighter. They walked out of Grimmauld Place's park, towards a small clearing. Malfoy stopped.

"Harry," he called softly.

Harry beamed at him. Malfoy always made his ordinary name sounded beautiful. Malfoy was beautiful, Malfoy was his, and he was Malfoy's. Malfoy held his hands tightly, as if he didn't want to let go.

Malfoy's action reminded Harry to the couple who always came and claiming themselves as Harry's friends. Although Malfoy had told him the same, Harry couldn't remember, couldn't believe that they were really his friends in the past. Malfoy was desperate, all of them were desperate. But Harry couldn't just believe. He believed Malfoy just because he had seen his Pensive. He loved Malfoy because he never gave up on him.

"What are you thinking, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, showing him nothing about his thought. Malfoy nodded, and with a gentle tug, he pushed Harry's face forward. The blonde leaned down, and kissed him.

All Harry could remember of the night was the softest kiss he had ever experienced.

* * *

><p><em>And then we're caught up in the arms race<br>An involuntary addiction  
>And we're shedding every value our mothers taught<em>

Both of them were panting heavily after the best kiss of their lives. Well, at least Harry's. Malfoy cradled his face, and kissed his all sides of his face.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," he chanted softly. "I'm really in love with you."

Harry's breath hitched. He had heard Malfoy said that, but he couldn't bring himself to believe it. But now… everything was just turning upside down. Malfoy loved him, and Harry felt something clicked inside him.

"Harry," Malfoy called. "I… I want to… show you something."

Harry stared at him confusedly. Malfoy never looked so… nervous like this. Maybe he wants to shag me?, Harry asked himself. A big grin crept to his face, made him looked really like himself when he was younger (actually that was what Malfoy said).

Malfoy pulled him slowly, and they walked into a… graveyard. Harry gasped softly, because this dark, cold place made him shiver. But Malfoy kept walking, pulling his hand a bit forcefully.

They stopped in front of a set of graves. Family graves, Harry realized. He looked at the two graves. Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy. Malfoy… they should be the blonde's parents.

"Harry," Malfoy suddenly said. Harry turned his head at him and saw he pointed on the third grave, which was located a bit further than the couple Malfoys. Harry approached him and stared at the name on the grave. He gasped loudly.

"Harry, say it. Say the name on the tomb. Say it!"

* * *

><p><em>So will you show me your real face<br>Draw a line in the horizon  
>Coz I only need your name to call the reasons why I fought<em>

"What? This…" Harry was speechless.

"This is possible, Harry. You've been under Oblivitus Curse, more complicated and damaging than the Obliviate. I'm the one holding you back, so say it! Say it!" Malfoy's hand gripped his shoulder tightly, while his other one still pointing at the tomb, at the name carved on the tomb.

"Say it, Harry! I've never taught you to say that word, but now, I know you can say it! Say it, Harry James Potter! Say it and you'll be free!"

Harry had turned into stone. He shook his head, didn't want believe what he was seeing.

"Say it," Malfoy hissed. His hand touched Harry's throat gently. "Say it! It'll be okay, Harry, you just need to say it!"

Harry felt himself got mute again. As if he was practicing for the first time. He tried hard to focus on the vibrations. He had practiced many difficult words, but nothing… nothing was harder than this.

Harry's tears fell freely from his eyes as he stared at the name on the tombstone. After several agonizing minutes which felt like hours, Harry managed a mutter.

"D-D-Draco Malfoy."

He fell to the ground as a flash of white light, just like what he remembered, almost blinded his eyes. The different thing between this light and the one he remembered he could see Draco between the harsh light. He screamed in horror as Draco's body ripped into shreds.

"Draco!" he screamed.

As fast as the light came, it was gone in an instant. Harry was alone in the graveyard. He looked around and saw a small wisp of light entered Draco's grave. He fell down, unconscious, but still heard Draco's last words, echoed in his mind.

"Thank you. I love you, Harry. That's Harry I love, the Harry I remember."

* * *

><p><em>When I thought that I fought this war alone...<em>

Hermione Granger-Weasley walked inside her private library. She picked up a certain book—a journal—from the shelf and read Draco's neat handwriting.

_Oblivitus Curse  
>Is one of the most complicated and dangerous spells, so it counts as one of the Dark spells.<br>Works strongly on wiping memories, is a modified version of Obliviate.  
>Has three side effects: deafness, blindness, and muteness. If the victim survives, he or she will suffer at least one of the effects.<br>If there is a third party, the curse will kill both the third party and the caster. The third party will have an opportunity to come alive and be the key for the victim's memories. If the victim said the third party's given name, his or her memories will be back and the third party will die, and there's no way he or she will come back to life again._

She flipped the book closed and read Draco's handwriting.

_DRACO MALFOY'S JOURNAL  
>"…if he only remembers his friends and forgets me, it's quite enough already…"<em>

"Hermione! You're here!" suddenly strong arms hugged her from behind, snapped her from her thoughts.

"Harry," she gasped. "Where is Ron?"

"He's outside. What are you reading?"

Hermione forced a smile, but she showed him the name of the owner. Harry frowned.

"Draco Malfoy? Who is he? Another spell maker? Potions Master?"

Hermione sighed. _If only he could remember._

**FIN.**_  
><em>

* * *

><p>Hope you like this! Harry Potter's universe belongs to JKR. Not mine. I'm sorry if I make you cry, this is the modified version of A Night To Remember, tho.<br>I've never taught anyone who are mute, so I don't know this is relevant or not.

The song is War by Poets of the Fall. Thanks a ton for reading!

So? Reviews? ^^


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